


Worthwhile

by quietude_et_douceur



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cutting, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietude_et_douceur/pseuds/quietude_et_douceur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, things get a bit too much for Merlin and even he doesn't realise it at first. But everyone is worthwhile, even when they don't think so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthwhile

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd so if you notice any mistakes, please feel free to let me know.

A few weeks into the new term, Merlin started to feel exhausted, a bone-deep exhaustion that he could never seem to shake. To make matters worse, even though he always felt exhausted, he could never sleep more than an hour or two at night. He'd spend the rest of the night tossing and turning if he was in his bed alone. When he was in bed with his boyfriend, he tried not to toss and turn, each minute of the night dragging on and on, excruciatingly long.  
   
He didn't notice at first but when Arthur pointed out that they hardly ever hung out together anymore, Merlin realised that he'd gradually started spending less and less time with his friends. With that thought came the horrifying realisation that he seemed to spend more and more time in his small room not doing anything but still feeling exhausted. He had no idea how that had happened and it disgusted him that he'd let himself become that pathetic.  
   
As his workload gradually increased, Merlin became less and less able to concentrate on anything other than dark thoughts in his mind – useless, worthless, waste of space, nuisance, better off dead. The last thought crept up on him silently, catching him by surprise one afternoon when he was barely able to focus on his lecture. It scared him of course but at the same time...  
   
At the same time, he thought that maybe he really was better off dead. He'd stop being a nuisance to his friends, to Arthur, to his mother, it was all he deserved. He was worrying everyone with his pathetic behaviour and they deserved better than that. The thought haunted him day and night, echoing in his mind like a sick mantra.  
   
One night, he was lying in his bed, unable to shake himself free from dark thoughts after the row he'd just had with Arthur – something about Arthur never seeing him anymore and wondering if there's someone else. There would never be anyone else, Merlin loved Arthur more than anything in this world, but he had just sat there, letting Arthur shout at him, accuse him of cheating. Maybe it would help Arthur see how worthless he was and make him leave Merlin for someone else, someone better, someone who could make Arthur happy.  
   
He felt anxious, needing to take his frustrations out on himself because it was all he deserved. Then he remembered the pack of razor blades, new, unopened, on his desk. He managed to find the energy to walk to his desk and open the pack, pulling out a brand new blade. He felt twitchy, almost feverish with the need to cut himself.  
   
He went back to his bed to sit down, turning on his bedside lamp. He wanted, _needed_ to see this. He put the blade to his wrist, slowly pressing down harder, his hand trembling and his breath coming faster. He dragged the blade across his wrist, an angry line that quickly filled up with thick dark blood. He winced from the pain. It hurt so much, how could it hurt so much? Was he so pathetic he couldn't even hurt himself properly? Merlin could only watch as the blood welled up from the wound, trickling down his arm. The sight of the blood flowing down his arm relaxed him, draining his feverish need to cut. He felt hollow, numb but calm.  
   
Arthur visited him the next day, hugging him close and apologising for his behaviour. Merlin told him that it was fine and it was – Arthur had done nothing wrong, Merlin was just a horrible person who didn't deserve Arthur.  
   
Arthur caught a glimpse of his wrist when he reached up to stroke Arthur's cheek, revealing the angry red line across his wrist.  
   
"Merlin," he said shakily, sounding scared. "What happened?"  
   
"It's nothing; I just caught my arm on something. It looks worse than it is," he lied, not meeting Arthur's eyes.  
   
Arthur sighed but didn't press the issue. Merlin was glad, he knew Arthur would be devastated and blame himself even though it was Merlin's fault for being alive when he didn't deserve to be.  
   
After that close call, Merlin stopped cutting where Arthur might see. He cut his thighs at first; they were always hidden beneath his trousers during the day. Eventually, he started cutting his stomach when his thighs were too covered with fresh marks but he would soon return to his thighs, the cuts were always more satisfying there. Of course, he hadn't thought of just how difficult it would be to keep his secret hidden from Arthur. Arthur was a very touchy-feely kind of man, always needing to be physically touching someone. More often than not, that someone was Merlin. And it was fine during the day, out in the open, when Arthur would just put an arm around his shoulders, hold his hand or pull him into a hug, nice, safe touches. When they were alone, however, Arthur's hands wandered. Not just when they were getting intimate, Merlin found that Arthur could not keep himself from wanting to touch every inch of his body. And it scared him, scared him so much. Arthur would eventually find out and there was nothing Merlin wanted less. He found excuses not to be alone with Arthur, homework, headaches, anything to keep Arthur from finding out.  
   
He could tell Arthur was hurt, upset by his rebuttals but it was for the best. Merlin didn't want Arthur to worry when there was no reason to worry about him and maybe Arthur would realise that he was better off without Merlin.  
   
"I'm worried about you," Arthur said one morning.  
   
He'd cornered him before Merlin's first class, pulling him into an empty room. Merlin could feel him tremble slightly where he held Merlin's hand in his.  
   
"I'm fine," Merlin said.  
   
"You don't look fine, Merlin. You've been avoiding me, avoiding your friends and I know for a fact that your grades have dropped. You're brilliant, Merlin, your grades shouldn't be dropping."  
   
Merlin ducked his head in shame. He hadn't wanted Arthur to notice, hadn't wanted him to worry. "It's nothing," he mumbled, hoping Arthur would go away soon. Merlin just wanted to get back to his room and cut himself until he no longer felt this deep, overwhelming shame at being caught by Arthur.  
   
"It's not nothing, Merlin. You can tell me anything, you know that right? I promise I'll help you."  
   
"I don't need your help, I'm fine," Merlin said firmly, still not looking at Arthur. He pushed him away and ran from the room. Arthur didn't follow him. Back in his room, Merlin grabbed his blade and cut and cut and cut until his stomach was covered in bleeding wounds, until he finally felt numb again.  
   
Arthur tried to talk to him a few times after that but Merlin managed to avoid him, pretending to be in a hurry. Arthur never insisted. It hurt, Merlin thought as he cut another line on his thigh one night, part of him still wanted Arthur to worry about him, but it was for the best. Once Arthur let go, he would be able to find a better boyfriend or a better girlfriend, someone worthy of his affections.  
   
A few days later, he saw Arthur from afar. He looked so happy, talking and laughing with a young man, shorter than Arthur, with dark curly hair. It tore Merlin apart to see Arthur like that but he knew it was for the best. Arthur deserved better and this young man, who looked almost like Merlin, a better Merlin, seemed to be making Arthur happy. Soon he would forget Merlin and everything would be fine.  
   
Merlin woke up early next morning, so early that the sky was still dark. He couldn't find the energy to do anything, not even sleep, not even cut; he just lay there staring at the wall in front of him for hours.  
   
A long time later, when the sun was high and bright in the sky, he finally managed to drag himself out of bed and slowly walk to the bathroom to empty his bladder. He thought about brushing his teeth but can't even muster the energy to grab the toothbrush so he just gave up and slowly made his way back to bed. _Pathetic_ , he thought. _It's no wonder they don't care. It's no wonder Arthur's leaving me for that other man._  
   
He lay back on his bed, facing the ceiling this time for a change of scenery. Not that he cared, he didn't even notice it behind the onslaught of dark thoughts. Merlin wanted to scream, wanted to cover his ears so he couldn't hear, wanted to be in Arthur's arms, warm, safe, but he couldn't find the will to move. He didn't deserve to be spared.  
   
That night, he pressed the blade to his wrist for the first time in months. He wanted to end it, wanted to end it so bad he was trembling. But he couldn't do it, couldn't kill himself. He was scared, so scared of the pain, of failing and waking up in a hospital bed to disappointed, disapproving stares.  
   
He let out a miserable whimper and put the blade down against his sheets as he tried to compose himself.  
   
_Coward, can't even end your life, can you? You're pathetic!_  
   
Merlin cried as he cut his legs that night, deep, angry lines against his white skin, but he didn't even notice the tears streaming down his cheeks. When he stopped cutting, he didn't feel empty or numb, he just felt disgust at his own weakness.  
   
He didn't sleep that night, too busy berating himself over not killing himself.  
   
The calls started on the second day around midday. Merlin had been contemplating grabbing his blade – he never cut during the day, unable to bear the sight of himself in natural light, but the pain deep inside him just would not stop. His phone started ringing on his bedside table, a bright, happy melody – Arthur. He ignored it and soon the music stopped, leaving Merlin alone with his thoughts again. He didn't try to cut that day, the fear he'd felt when his phone had rung stronger than the urge to cut.  
   
He got another call in the evening, the only way Merlin could tell that time had passed. Merlin ignored it again, reaching for his blade.  
   
He got two calls the following morning with barely an hour between the two. After the second call, Merlin buried his face in his pillow and cried, he just wanted the pain to stop. He hugged his pillow tight, pretending it was Arthur, but somehow, he just felt worse.  
   
Sometime later, someone knocked at his door, loud, frantic.  
   
"Merlin? Merlin, are you home?" Arthur, sounding scared. His mobile went off next to him, still not cutting into his haze of nothingness. "I know you're home, Merlin, open the door!"  
   
Merlin vaguely registered Arthur hammering at the door and calling his name and a small part of him, minuscule, muffled told him to stop worrying Arthur, for fuck's sake. Still Merlin did nothing and the noise stopped.  
   
_That's it then,_ he thought, _Arthur's gone now, he's finally going to be happy and I'm all alone._  
   
It was what he'd always wanted but Merlin still felt like his heart had been torn out. He couldn't stop the sobs tearing through his throat and his vision was blurry from his tears as he slowly took it all out on himself, first his thighs, then his stomach.  
   
Sometime later, Merlin was completely unaware of how much time had passed, the last couple of days had been a blur, someone banged at his door. Merlin paused, the blade inches from his wrist – his stomach and thighs were an angry mess of red and white lines, fresh, bleeding wounds on old scars.  
   
"Merlin, please!" Arthur again, begging. "Please, _please_ open the door. I just want to know you're alright."  
   
Merlin heard one of his neighbours tell Arthur to shut up and silence fell again, leaving Merlin to drown in his thoughts. Arthur had just wanted to make sure he was alright before leaving him for Better Merlin, that was all. He had no right to feel hopeful. Suddenly, he heard his door open and slam shut and Arthur was by his side, brushing his hair off his forehead.  
   
"Oh god, Merlin," he whimpered brokenly. Merlin went cold and clammy all over in mortification. Arthur _knew_. He knew and now everyone would know just how pathetic Merlin was.  
   
"Please leave me," he mumbled weakly. He didn't even have the force to pretend that he was alright. It wasn't worth it anyway, Arthur had _seen_ him.  
   
Arthur ignored him completely, removing his shoes and getting into bed behind Merlin. He put his arms around Merlin's waist despite Merlin's protests and held him close. Feeling Arthur, solid and warm, behind him was the last straw and Merlin started crying, loud, broken sobs pushing free from his chest, curled in on himself. Arthur just held him close, whispering endearments next to his ear and pressing small kisses to the side of his head, while Merlin cried and cried and cried until he couldn't cry anymore.  
   
Still Arthur held him, never letting up his flow of endearments, while Merlin sniffled and tried to calm down.  
   
"I'm sorry," he muttered eventually, trying to wiggle out of Arthur's arms. But Arthur was strong and wouldn't let go so Merlin just sagged against him.  
   
"I love you, Merlin," Arthur just said.  
   
They lay there together in silence for a long time, neither of them speaking or moving. A long time later, or at least it felt that way to Merlin, Arthur's stomach rumbled. Arthur sat up and put a hand on Merlin's cheek, gently caressing his cheekbone with his thumb.  
   
"Let's get you cleaned up."  
   
Arthur went to the bathroom and came back with Merlin's first aid kit. He sat down next to Merlin and pulled Merlin's clothes off.  
   
"Oh Merlin," he whispered brokenly as he got his first proper glance of Merlin's body.  
   
Merlin tensed and tried to move but Arthur's hand was on his hip, gently but firmly keeping him in place.  
   
"This is probably going to hurt," he said. "But I don't want you to get an infection."  
   
Arthur slowly and gently cleaned his wounds with alcohol. He was right, it did hurt, his muscles twitched with every gentle swipe, but it kept Merlin's mind busy, kept him from his mortification. When he was done with his thighs, he tenderly wrapped them with gauze before gently kissing each thigh.  
   
He then moved to Merlin's stomach, running a hand up his side soothingly first.  
   
"Ready?" he asked. Merlin nodded and Arthur started cleaning his wounds again, slowly but gently.  
   
"Can you sit up?" he asked and helped Merlin, mindful of his wounds. He then wrapped his stomach in gauze awkwardly.  
   
"You should get those checked out but this'll do for now," he said softly.  
   
Merlin couldn't meet his eyes, too ashamed, so he stared at his bandages. "I will, thanks," he said softly.  
   
"Merlin –"  
   
"You can leave now," Merlin interrupted, not wanting to hear what Arthur had to say, his disgust, his fear, his concern. Merlin didn't want to hear any of that, he just wanted to be left alone.  
   
"You know I can't do that," Arthur said gently, cautiously resting his hand on Merlin's shoulder.  
   
Merlin scoffed. "Why? Worried I'll off myself? Worried they'll blame you? Don't worry about it, Arthur, just leave me alone." _Leave me, please leave me, I'm begging you..._  
   
"Merlin, look at me," he said gently. When Merlin refused to comply, he just sighed and continued. "Of course I'm worried you'll kill yourself, idiot. Not because I'm worried I'll be blamed but because I'm in love with you. And they should blame me if you kill yourself, I –" Arthur's voice had been quivering when he went silent and Merlin dared to look up. What he saw shocked him to the core – Arthur was trying to hold back his tears and failing but he still looked at Merlin like he was the most precious thing in Arthur's world.  
   
"Hey," Merlin said softly, reaching up to squeeze Arthur's hand on his shoulder. "You're not to blame, I'm the one who's messed up here." Merlin let out a short, sardonic laugh, how could anyone believe anything else?  
   
"You're not. I should have noticed sooner, I should have –" Arthur trailed off and his hold on Merlin's shoulder tightened. "I should have been there for you, Merlin. God, I'm so sorry, I should have done something, _anything_ sooner but I just –"  
   
Why did Arthur sound so angry at himself? Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand tighter, not knowing what to do or say and they sat there in silence for a very long moment.  
   
Arthur sighed eventually, letting go of Merlin's shoulder. "Let's get something to eat, yeah?"  
   
"'M not hungry," Merlin mumbled. He hadn't felt hungry in ages which had been a small blessing since he found himself unable to even decide what he wanted to eat these days.  
   
"You need to eat, Merlin. I know you haven't been eating properly recently, you've lost weight and I honestly didn't think you had any weight to lose on you."  
   
"I just haven't been hungry."  
   
Arthur sighed. "When's the last time you ate?" Merlin shrugged. "Come on, we're going to my place and I'm going to make you dinner."  
   
"You can't cook," Merlin said weakly, what once would have been a teasing jab at Arthur's lack of domestic skills now just rang hollow between them.  
   
Arthur didn't even try to laugh. "I'll order something. What do you want to eat?" Merlin shrugged again. "Come on, Merlin, pick something. Curry? Fish and chips? Sushi? Whatever you want."  
   
Merlin grew more and more upset as Arthur mentioned meal after meal, things Merlin used to like back when he was a normal person. "I just don't know!" he shouted, scaring Arthur a little. He just sat there trembling after his outburst.  
   
"Sorry," Arthur mumbled. "I'll pick something. Come on."  
   
**  
   
Later that night, after dinner – sushi, Arthur had ordered sushi in the end, claiming it was easier to eat because it was cold and came in small bite-size portions – and a shower, Merlin was lying in Arthur's large, comfortable bed, breathing in the smell of fresh sheets, something he hadn't smelled in a long time. Arthur was still in the lounge, claiming he had a bit of cleaning to do since he had company. Merlin knew he was just putting off coming to bed as long as he could.  
   
_Can't blame him, I don't even want to deal with me. Can't imagine anyone else would._  
   
The door opened and closed and soon Arthur was slipping into bed behind Merlin, spooning him, his hands staying well away from his cuts.  
   
"Sorry," Arthur murmured. "The place was a mess, I haven't really had a reason to keep it clean recently."  
   
Merlin tensed. "Sorry." It was all his fault, if only he'd been a better boyfriend.  
   
Arthur kissed his shoulder. It felt nice, he'd missed this feeling. "Don't be, it's not your fault."  
   
They lapsed into another silence, less awkward as the others that night, but still far from their usual comfortable, companionable silences.  
   
"How did you figure it out?" Merlin asked softly. He wanted to know what he'd done wrong, needed to know what had caught Arthur's attention.  
   
Arthur tightened his hold around him, as if he was scared that Merlin would disappear any moment, and was quiet for a moment. Merlin let him, not really knowing what to say or do anyway.  
   
"Morgana," he started, his voice shaky and thick with unshed tears. "She was like this before she –" he trailed off. Merlin could feel him shake against his back and squeezed Arthur's hands where they rest beneath his on his stomach. When he spoke again, his voice was a mere whisper, broken and teary. "Before she disappeared."  
   
"Oh Arthur."  
   
Merlin turned in Arthur's arms and pulled him into a tight hug. Arthur buried his head in the crook of Merlin's shoulder and Merlin could tell he was fighting to hold back his tears. Merlin was heartbroken, he felt awful, so guilty. His self-indulgent misery had caused Arthur to relive the disappearance of his half-sister. He should have known, he knew how upset, how _guilty_ Arthur felt about not managing to help Morgana, how he still couldn't forgive himself even though it had been five years. He was the worst boyfriend ever, a horrible human being.  
   
Merlin just wanted to die for putting Arthur through this. He didn't deserve to live. He itched with the urge to cut himself, cut so deep that it all stopped. His skin tingled feverishly with the need to wrap his fingers around his blade and open up his veins.  
   
"I'm sorry," Arthur mumbled against his skin.  
   
Merlin frowned. Why was he apologising when Merlin was at fault? Merlin should be the one apologising for being such a pathetic person, not Arthur. He tightened his arms around Arthur's body, trying to quash the need to cut for now, just long enough to comfort Arthur and set him on his way.  
   
"Don't apologise. I'm the one who should be –"  
   
His apology was cut off mid-sentence by Arthur's mouth on his in a desperate kiss.  
   
"Don't you ever apologise, Merlin," he panted fiercely against Merlin's lips as they parted. "You've done nothing wrong."  
   
"But I –"  
   
Arthur put a finger on Merlin's lips gently to silence him. "Listen to me, Merlin. I don't know what's going through your head right now but you have nothing to apologise for. I'm upset because I'm scared, Merlin. I don't want to lose you too."  
   
"You deserve better than me," Merlin said casually even though the words tore him up inside. "I'm a horrible person, there are so many better people out there."  
   
"Don't say that!" Arthur almost shouted. His eyes were wide and panicked and the hand he'd placed on Merlin's arm was squeezing him almost painfully, his fingers digging into his skin. "Don't say that," he repeated, softer this time. "You're amazing, Merlin. If anything, you deserve better than me."  
   
"Don't be daft, I'm worthless. I can't do anything right. I made you remember Morgana's disappearance."  
   
"Oh Merlin," Arthur murmured, heartbroken. He pulled Merlin closer, like he wanted them to become one. "You're not worthless, you're not. I don't know how to make you understand how amazing you are but you need to believe me when I say you are."  
   
Merlin nodded, not because he believed Arthur but because he wanted to reassure him, to make him stop sounding so upset, so heartbroken. He felt Arthur's chest heave and he let out a long breath.  
   
"I know you don't believe me, Merlin, don't lie. But I promise I'm going to help you get better."  
   
"There's nothing you can do. I'm broken, Arthur." He wanted to go on, talk about how he only deserved death, but he didn't want to upset Arthur further.  
   
"You're not broken, you'll be able to see that one day. I promise."  
   
"I don't even have a reason for feeling like this, Arthur," he shouted. He needed to make Arthur understand just how pathetic he was, how unworthy of saving he was. "Everything in my life is going fine, I'm in university, I have a great family, I have an amazing boyfriend whom I love more than anything, my friends are the best, and yet... I just can't feel happy. How are you going to fix me if there's no reason for this?"  
   
Arthur just held him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I don't know but I'm going to do everything I can to help you. We're going to find you a psychologist, someone better qualified to help you. Father never let Morgana see one but I think it would have helped. I'm not going to just let depression take over your life without fighting for you, Merlin."  
   
"Arthur –"  
   
"I'm going to fight for you, Merlin," Arthur repeated softly, nothing more than a whisper. "I'm going to fight for you until you can fight for yourself."  
   
Even though he thought he'd cried himself dry earlier on, Merlin started crying again.  
   
"It's going to be alright, Merlin," Arthur murmured between kisses to his forehead. "I promise."  
   
**  
   
Getting help was a long and arduous task. The university psychologist was rubbish who suggested that Merlin wasn't trying hard enough to be happy. When Merlin had reported that to Arthur, expecting him to be happy that he'd found a psychologist who understood him so well, Arthur had exploded. The only reason Arthur hadn't punched the psychologist's lights out was that Merlin had begged him not to.  
   
The next two psychologists after that were better but Merlin didn't feel comfortable around them. After weeks of suffering through uncomfortable, tense sessions where Merlin felt judged, he'd told Arthur he was going to find someone else. Arthur had nodded and hugged him tight, whispering over and over again just how sorry he was.  
   
Eventually, though, Merlin found a psychiatrist who made him feel comfortable and helped him. Her name was Guinevere, Gwen for short. Arthur had found her when he'd met up with an old friend from school, Lancelot, for drinks. Gwen was brilliant. She was kind, caring, supportive and understanding but wouldn't hesitate to push Merlin when he needed pushing.  
   
At the same time, with Gwen's help, they'd finally managed to find an anti-depressant that worked and soon Merlin found himself gradually starting to feel better. Some days, he even felt almost like his old self, happy, carefree, completely in love.  
   
Most days were still a struggle though. Some days, Merlin couldn't even find the energy to get out of bed, let alone attend his classes. He hated those days most of all because Arthur would come home to find him still in bed and sigh.  
   
"Oh Merlin," he'd say, sounding heartbroken. He'd then get into bed and hold Merlin tight.  
   
And there were fights. Of course there were. Some days, Merlin just couldn't cope with Arthur's overbearing worrying, making sure Merlin took his medicine on time, making sure he went to see Gwen, making sure this, making sure that... It drove Merlin to despair some days, he felt like he wanted to tear his hair out. So he'd lash out at Arthur and Arthur would argue back and they'd fight.  
   
Arthur always apologised first. After their first fight, Arthur had made Merlin promise he wouldn't apologise first, he just couldn't bear it. So Merlin would wait and eventually Arthur would apologise. And life went on, only now Merlin wanted to get better, he wanted to fight.


End file.
